


Proxy

by VoiceOfNurse



Series: Lean On Me [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical, Newton Geiszler Recovery Arc, POV Hermann Gottlieb, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28611870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoiceOfNurse/pseuds/VoiceOfNurse
Summary: They break him free and then... nothing. And that, for Hermann, is the hardest blow of all.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler & Hermann Gottlieb
Series: Lean On Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096514
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Proxy

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a long, long time since I've had any motivation to write anything at all. Let's see if I still have it in me! This will hopefully be part of a little series.

They break him free and then... nothing. And that, for Hermann, is the hardest blow of all.

The lengths to which they go to eradicate precursor control, the high risk treatments, the blind, terrifying chances, form a time in Hermann's life that he honestly never wants to think about again. Numbers are the closest thing man has to the handwriting of god, so when the odds are truly terrible, but the consequences of not trying are unfathomable, Hermann feels it in his soul.  
He is Newton's medical proxy, because, quite frankly, there isn't anyone else. Ten years, and not only have the precursors ravaged Newton's life, but they also blighted his already turbulent interpersonal relationships. Ten years, but a hostile alien hive mind was never able to truly turn Hermann away.

So, he steps up as proxy. He pulls out every inch of his abrasive, furiously logical personality and goes head to head with each and every person who tries to stand in his way. He has faced the end of the world twice now, and, as the echo of Newton in his head would say "kicked it in the ass", so really, the militaristic bureaucracy of the PPDC never stood a chance.

He insistently involves himself in every inch of Newton's confinement, going so far as to use the PPDC’s desperate need for Herman's genius and expertise as a bargaining chip to get what he wants. It hurts, to have to make choices that may well cause irreparable damage to Newton. To weigh up the (terrible) odds and choose the least horrendous option. Newton is all Hermann has left, and he doesn't trust anyone else to make those decisions for Newton, rather than for some ulterior motive. So Hermann does what he does best; he crunches numbers, balances probabilities, and makes a choice. 

And thus it ends; the precursors are expelled. Newton goes from screaming to silent, and that is that. There is no waking as if from sheep, no heartfelt conversation, just raspy breathing and blood slowly dripping onto the sheets.

Once it is done, Hermann steps away, excuses himself to the bathroom, and sits in the accessible stall. The door is locked, he is alone, but still he feels hunted; the one thing he was never able to escape was his own coldly logical mind. He knows, with all of that logic, that there was no other option than to make the decisions that he made. Leaving a hostile alien consciousness in place, to do whatever damage it so chose, was not a viable option. Any chance of freedom was a chance worth taking, but by the seventh minute of terrifying seizure activity, where Newton was slowly going blue, tongue bloody and clamped between his teeth while the medical team scrambled to stabilise him... well, It was enough to make even Hermann doubt his calculations.

He isn't entirely sure how long he huddles in the bathroom, trying to block out reality and his own frantically spinning mind, but when he emerges things are calm. Newton is tucked up onto his side amidst a host of wires and monitors, breathing raspily into an oxygen mask. His eyes are closed, and someone had clearly done their best to clean the blood and vomit from around his face. He looks... Hermann doesn't even know how he looks.

"We got the seizure under control,” the nurse, one of a faceless parade of medical professionals Hermann has dett with lately, speaks up from her seat at Newton's bedside. "They decided not to intubate, not yet, because he's breathing okay on his own for now. Another seizure and they might change their minds, but for now the plan is to wait a bit to let him settle then take him over for scans."

Hermann twitches the smallest of nods, his hands automatically straying to the bedside rail, clutching tight. He feels unbalanced, adrift. "His condition...?” He doesn't even know what he needs to ask.

Thankfully, the nurse just nods. "Stable for the moment," she answers, face thoughtful. “We have him on antibiotics, funds, an anti-epileptic, but we won't really know more until the scans are back and he's had some time to come around. He had a lot of sedation, to bring the seizure under control, so it will be a good few hours until we have a real idea of how he’s doing."

A good few hours, and scans, before Hermann will know what damages his derision may have wrought; the very idea is intolerable. "Is there anything I can do?" he finally asks, too tired to care how defeated he sounds.

The nurse nods again. "Get a coffee, take a shower, try to get some sleep. He isn't going anywhere, and you look exhausted.”

Hermann is exhausted. He is so beyond exhausted and overwhelmed that the world has taken on a strange, surreal quality, but the idea of leaving Newton to go and take care of himself is inexplicably terrifying. "I-"

The nurse must read something in his face, or perhaps she has just had this conversation many times before. she stands, moving around the bed to cover one of Hermann's hands with her own. "He will be right here. We have him under constant observation, and will call for you if anything changes, anything at all. But you need to take a few hours; take a break. We'll be taking good care of him.”

Part of Hermann wants to scoff, scold this- this child for being so presumptuous as to tell him what to do, but frankly he is so exhausted that he just can't find the will.

"You will call me," he insists instead. “If there is even the slightest change in his condition. No matter the time, I need to know.''

The nurse smiles, her face bland and reassuring. "Of course. Someone will be right here with him all the time. Any change and we'll call you."

Hermann takes a moment to watch her, assessing her steady gaze before inclining his head just slightly. "As you wish," he mutters with a heavy sigh. "Newton..." one hand strays, almost without Hermann's conscious thought, to touch the other man's clammy forehead. “Do try not to cause the staff here any trouble while I'm gone."

There is no response, of course not, and Hermann turns away. "Any charge and I must hear of it immediately." he warns over his shoulder, as he gathers his cane and limps away.

His leg pains him, and the world feels wrong somehow, as though gravity has shifted just a fraction and Hermann is suddenly that little bit more off balance. He shakes his head, more at himself than anything else -foolish man, gravity is constant, but perhaps Newton, who Hermann has orbited for most of his adult life, is not.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed my hungry little writer soul.


End file.
